


Happy Birthday Ginny

by pottermum



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Family, Hexing, Humor, Romantic Weekend Away, Topless Sunbathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 19:15:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15647211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pottermum/pseuds/pottermum
Summary: It was supposed to be romantic weekend away for Ginny's birthday. It didn't end how Harry expected it to.





	Happy Birthday Ginny

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to pettybureaucrat for the prompt.

“Harry, stop teasing, just tell me already,” complained Ginny, as he took her hand and led her to his study. It was mid morning on Friday, August tenth.

“But then it wouldn't be a surprise. Here, you need to put this on, too,” her husband told her, handing her a blindfold. 

“Ooh, kinky,” she exclaimed, and put it on. “Wait, none of my brother's are going to suddenly appear naked, are they? Because, ew, gross!” 

Harry shuddered at the image. “The only ones I plan to be naked are you and me.” He checked her blindfold carefully. 

“Damn, looks like I won't be getting that threesome for my birthday,” she cheekily complained. “Still there's always Christmas.” She held up her crossed fingers, then jumped when Harry lightly smacked her arse. 

“Okay, I'm going to set off the Portkey. You'll need to hold on to me. Ready?” he asked her. 

“Wait! What about the kids?” she asked.

“James is at the shop with George, Albus is spending the weekend at the Malfoy's and Lily is staying with Percy and Audrey, she and Lucy are working on some summer homework together. You and I are heading to a secret destination that only me and one other person know about. We'll be completely alone today, tomorrow and Sunday,” he told her. 

“Sounds like heaven to me,” she told him. “I bet the other person is Hermione.” 

“Nope. So, you ready? Every minute we stand here talking is a minute lost in paradise,” he reminded her. 

“You're right, what are we waiting for? I'm ready for a weekend of debauchery, Mr Potter,” she grinned. She wrapped her arms around him, clinging tightly so he could feel every curve of her body, a body he knew as well as his own. Knew every place to make her moan; make her gasp and sigh with pleasure. He planned on doing a lot of that over the next couple of days. 

“You and me both, Mrs Potter,” he replied, grinning as widely as she was. “Okay, here we go.” He pressed the rubber duck, making it squeak, and within seconds, they were whisked away. 

Once they stopped feeling like they were being sucked through a hose, they both stilled. “Are we there? Can I take off this blindfold?” she asked eagerly. 

“Yeah,” said Harry, looking around himself. He was pleased at what he saw. 

Ginny removed the blindfold, running her fingers through her hair to flatten it. She too, looked around, eyes opening in wonder. “Where are we?” she asked. 

“A villa in St Tropez,” said Harry. “The beach is just over there.” He pointed.

Ginny spun around, looking at the grand home they were standing in. “How...who?” she asked, moving to the large kitchen, and the cinema lounge in the adjacent room. “This place is amazing!” She raced further in to look around, the screamed in jubilation. “Harry, get in here!” 

Chuckling, he followed her, removing the small bags he'd packed for them both from his pockets, and unshrinking them. He carried them with him, looking for his wife. He found her spreadeagled on the largest bed he'd ever seen. 

“Look at that view,” she pointed. She'd opened the French doors in their bedroom, and it opened out to the beach. “You should see the size of the shower, and the bath in the ensuite,” she cried, giddily. 

“I'd rather look at this view,” quipped Harry, dropping the bags and pouncing on her on the bed. 

“It's huge,” she laughed, her arms on his shoulders as he settled between her legs. 

“Yes, it is,” he agreed, rubbing against her, letting her know how aroused he was already. 

She brought his head down to hers and they kissed. “Merlin, we need this,” she sighed happily. “Time to ourselves, away from the family, our work, even the kids, much as I love them.” 

“A second honeymoon,” he agreed, “just you and me. I've left orders, there's to be no owls unless it's an absolute emergency. Nobody knows us here, it's going to be great.”

“Then what are you waiting for, Harry?” challenged Ginny, her eyes blazing in lust. “Let the debauchery begin!” 

/*/*/*/*

A couple of hours later, a sated Ginny needed another of her appetites attended to. Harry foraged in the fully stocked kitchen, wearing just his boxers. Ginny wore just his tee shirt, barely covering her bare arse, as she explored the vast house. He looked up from his pans from time to time, every time she exclaimed over something else she had discovered. 

This was just what they both needed. They were both pretty good on checking in with each other over work, friends and family, but this summer had seemed particularly busy, even though their kids were getting older and seemingly had lives of their own. 

He'd only realised it had been awhile since he and Ginny spent quality time together at his birthday party several days ago. Ginny had organised everything, making sure his favourite people were there to help him celebrate his thirty-eighth birthday. 

They'd all told him Ginny had planned the party for ages, sending owls, organising Portkeys and accommodations, just to make sure they could all make it. She'd even managed to clear Hermione's calendar although, as Minister for Magic, there really was no such thing as a day off. 

After the party, he'd casually mentioned to Fleur he'd like to do something special for Ginny's birthday, that the two needed time together, and next thing he knew, Fleur had suggested a guest home in paradise, available through a friend of a friend. It was just what Harry wanted for him and Ginny, and together, he and Fleur confirmed all the plans. 

“Harry!” 

He looked up as she returned to the kitchen. Hard to believe she would be turning thirty seven the next day, she still looked amazing, a Quidditch champion, and mother of three children. In his eyes, she was still the most beautiful woman in the world. “What is it?” he asked, amused at her astonishment. 

“There is a swimming pool...in the house!” she declared. “I mean, the beach is right there, and there is a goddamn pool...in the house!” she cried. He grinned at her exuberance. 

She came to his side, sniffing interestedly. “Smells good.” He pulled her to his side for a quick kiss, then she began to prepare a salad. Years of working side by side meant they knew how to move around each other in the kitchen, which was usually Harry's domain. 

They ate leisurely, her bare feet on his. There was no need for conversation, just a feeling of contentedness that came with years of togetherness. They concentrated on their meals, finally discussing some general plans for the weekend. 

They agreed they'd go out for dinner that night and the next. When Harry mentioned he'd only packed one good dress for her to wear, she immediately added shopping to their plans. They decided to hit the beach the next day and just hang around the house for the rest of this day, before dinner, making the most of the indoor pool and the cinema.

And of course, the extra large bed. 

/*/*/*/*

Harry awoke to the feel of her hands and lips on his body. He wriggled appreciatively, allowing her full access, and his greedy wife made the most of it. He shivered at her touch, wanting more. He heard her chuckle; she knew he was completely at her mercy. 

“But it's your birthday,” he half protested, even as he arched under her touch. 

“And this is how I want to celebrate,” she told him, her busy hands moving lower, and her mouth quickly followed. 

She knew how he liked it, how much pressure to use, when to slow it down, when to speed it up. He threaded his fingers through her hair, urging her to continue, and within minutes he was gasping, his heart bursting, and she was wriggling up the bed to his side, grinning in satisfaction. 

“Good morning,” she practically purred. 

He grabbed her and rolled himself atop her. “Happy Birthday, beautiful,” he said, kissing her lovingly. He deepened the kiss, wanting to give back as good as he had just got. 

Ginny wrapped her legs around his waist, shifting her hips to allow to slide easily into her. She tightened her thighs, clenching her inner muscles, causing him to swear at the sensations running through his body. 

They were both still quite fit, perhaps not as fit as they had been in their early twenties when they had been at their peak, but they were well matched in many areas, and in bed was definitely one of them. 

Ginny urged him on, and he picked up the pace. Looking down at her blazing eyes, he fell in love with her all over again. He hitched her leg over his hip, sending him deeper than before, and she cried out when she found her release. He followed her, spilling his seed, filling her. 

“Merlin,” she gasped, as he flopped on the bed next to her, trying to regain his breath. “We haven't shagged this much since my Harpy days.” 

He rolled towards her, his hand resting on her hip. “Baby, you aint seen nothing yet,” he bragged. 

“Harry, love, we aren't twenty one anymore,” she chided, “but I love your enthusiasm.” 

“Oh, give me ten minutes and I'll show you just how enthusiastic I can be again,” he grinned, his hand caressing her thigh. 

Ginny chuckled. “I think I love St Tropez Harry.” 

“St Tropez Harry has no kids, no responsibilities other than seeing to your pleasure,” teased Harry. 

She turned her head to look at him. “And like everything else, you do it so well.” 

She drew his head to her chest, pressing her lips to his still sweaty forehead. He purred at her words, even knowing they had had their own troubled times. With them both having high profile careers they were fodder for the press, and although they had tried to shield their children from it all there were some things they just couldn't control. Sometimes it had seemed all they did was fight – fight for time together, fight to protect their kids, especially Harry's strained relationship with Albus. But throughout it all, they had each other's back. Ginny was his constant, his voice of reason at times, his home, his future. 

“Are you getting all melancholy on me, Potter,” she teased. 

“Me?” he scoffed, “not a chance. Next thing you'll be telling me I'm all noble or something.” 

“Ppft, noble...you? I think you're thinking about London Harry,” she said, running her hands through his messy hair, and making it even worse. 

“London Harry is a bore, all work, no play,” he scoffed. His hand came up to gently caress her breast. 

“London Harry has responsibilities,” she reminded him. “Father of three, Head Auror, husband to the fabulous Ginny...” 

He sighed heavily. “Each one a full time job in itself...ow!” He jumped when she pinched his side in reply to his comments. In retailiation he tweaked her nipple. 

“Ow,” she complained. “You're lucky I love you.” 

He looked up into her eyes. “I know.” And he did, for what would his life be without Ginny by his side? No James, Albus or Lily? He didn't even want to think about it for a second. “I know,” he repeated, meaningfully. 

Ginny curled against him, cupping his cheek. “I wouldn't change a thing, Harry,” she told him. 

“Nothing?” he asked her.

She pondered. “Well, maybe I'd remove a certain Ravenclaw from existance. Oh, not her existance, just yours,” she assured him. 

He chuckled. Cho Chang was a mere blip in his Hogwarts memories, and he hadn't heard anything of her since the days after the final battle. He didn't know why Ginny still teased him about her, Ginny was head and shoulders above any woman he knew.

“”Yeah?” he asked, “well, I have the same feeling about another Ravenclaw. Does Michael Corner ring a bell?”

“Corner, Schmorner,” scoffed Ginny, “although he danced like a dream at the Yule Ball.” She liked getting this little dig in, knowing full well her husband hated the formal dances they had to attend at the Ministry. “Enough talk about the past. I want to go to the beach!” 

She sprang out of bed, opening the French doors that led to the beach. “Look at that view.”

Harry rolled over, certainly enjoying the view of his naked wife. “What about breakfast?” he asked, getting out of bed too. Naked too, he joined his wife, looking outside at the sunshine and the picturesque beach. 

“Let's go to a café then head to the beach. We can pick up supplies on the way, drinks and stuff,” suggested Ginny. 

“Sounds perfect,” agreed Harry. “How about a shower first.”

She loped an arm around his neck. “Merlin yes, we haven't showered together for ages...or done anything else in there,” she hinted. 

“Well, it is your birthday,” reminded Harry, “and whatever my lady wants...”

“Your lady gets,” finished Ginny, “and right now, I want you, wet and wanting.”

“Then what are we waiting for,” grinned Harry. “That huge shower awaits.”

Breakfast became brunch. 

/*/*/*/*

It was a perfect day for the beach, with the sun shining down on the pure white sand and glistening on the cerulean blue water, making it sparkle and entice. 

They were on the magical part of the beach, so Harry had no qualms using magic to transfigure up a couple of lounge chairs. He set them up, then spread their colourful towels atop. 

“Harry, would you do the sunblock charm on my back, please?” asked Ginny. 

“Sure.” He turned around and froze. His wife stood there, topless! “Ginny!” he hissed. 

“Oh, sorry,” she said, misinterpreting. She turned, offering him her bare back. 

Immediately he wrapped his arms around her from behind, his hands cupping her bare-to-the-world breasts. 

“Er, Harry love, I don't think this is the time or the place for that,” she said, amused. 

“You're missing your top,” he told her. 

She turned around, still tight in his arms, and looked at him. “Harry, look around you. It's a topless beach, love. Actually, I think it may be a nudist beach, judging by that guy over there, and there...and there,” she gestured with her head. 

Harry looked around, sure enough, all the women were topless and some people were bare all over. Still, as comfortable in his nudity around Ginny as he was, he still felt some things were best kept private. “Gin...?”

She looked down at her body. “I'm not ashamed of my body, although I do want to get rid of this.” She patted the small paunch that she just couldn't seem to shrink, no matter how many sit-ups she did. “Besides, you're going topless.”

He gave her a sarcastic look. “Yeah, but I'm a bloke. I don't want any other blokes looking at my wife like that. Besides, what about the press? Can you imagine what they'd print if they got wind of this?” 

She put her hands on her hip. “Harry, we are on holidays, no-one knows us here. Nobody is going to give us a second look, let alone look at my tits when there are a hundred other pairs of tits to look at.”

“But they're ours...yours,” he said, knowing he was losing this argument. “Not the worlds.”

She threw him a look, and turned her back. “Sunblock charm, please, then we'll hit the water. Come on, love, let's not waste this time together,” she pleaded. 

He acquiesced, running his wand over her back, then had fun doing her front the Muggle way, with a delicious coconut scented cream. Finally, hand in hand, they wandered down the sand and waded into the cool water. 

They swam and splashed, enjoying the freedom of no responsibilities but just to enjoy this time they'd been given. 

Another couple swam close, eyeing them both keenly. Confident he knew what they were thinking and offering, Harry shook his head and swam Ginny away before she became aware of them. 

“You know, it's really quite freeing, wearing nothing,” said Ginny, as they ambled back to their loungers. “Just feeling the sunshine on your body, oof, bloody hell, Harry!” she cursed. 

He had hastily wrapped a towel around her. “Just getting you dry, love,” he told her, patting her down. 

“I intended to let the sun do that for me, Harry,” she told him dryly. She shrugged off his towel and lay on her back, arms over her head which made her breasts appear high, round and firm. 

Harry sighed. Perhaps she was right and he was worrying for nothing. Nobody knew Harry and Ginny Potter were there and besides, they were both now nearing forty. Surely no-one would be interested in them. 

“Hey, want some ice-cream?” he asked, trying to make amends.

She sat up, looking keen. “Ooh, yes please. Anything chocolate,” she told him. 

He nodded, cancelling his security charms on their bag and grabbing his wallet. He leaned over to kiss her, his body deliberately hiding her momentarily from any prying eyes. “Be right back.”

She shot him a look, knowing exactly what he was doing. “I'll be right here, jumping up and down with joy at your return,” she told him, crossing her arms under her breasts, knowingly plumping them up. 

He looked down at her chest. “I can't help it, Gin. What red blooded man wouldn't want to look at you, let alone anything else.”

Ginny's pouty look softened. “I'm not interested in any other red blooded men, only you, Harry,” she assured him gently. She pointed. “Now go, ice cream please.”

He kissed her again, this time not blocking her from anyone's view. “I won't be long,” he told her. 

He walked away, adding a wriggle to his step when she wolf whistled loudly behind him. 

He grabbed two chocolate ice creams and a couple of icy cold bottles of water, and headed back to Ginny. He pulled their loungers together, and they cuddled together, enjoying their leisure time. 

Thanks to the sun, they dozed, waking up groggily. Harry rose and stretched, eyeing the water. He ran his hands through his hair. 

“Oh Merlin, it's Harry Potter!” he heard someone cry. 

He looked around, only to see a woman approaching him, her husband and kids in tow. “It is you, isn't it? Harry Potter? Merlin, kids, can you believe it, it's Harry Potter!” she cried loudly.

“Thought he'd be taller,” said the man to the woman. 

“Are you here on holidays, Mr Potter? We are, enjoying these last few weeks before school resumes. I suppose you know what that's like. Is the family with you?” the woman asked eagerly, looking around. Harry moved in front to block Ginny from their view. 

“Can I have your autograph, Mr Potter, sir?” asked the boy, who Harry presumed to be eight or nine. 

“Sorry, I don't have a quill or anything on me right now,” shrugged Harry. 

“How about a photo instead?” suggested the man who, again, Harry presumed to be the husband and dad. 

“I suppose. Look, we're trying to keep a low profile here,” he said to the family, as the kids stood either side of him, beaming. The girl, about eleven or twelve, blushed when he smiled at her. 

The husband and wife looked down at Ginny, who was snoozing, a towel over her face to protect her from the sun, but her chest bared for the world to see. 

“Mr Potter!” Harry looked from Ginny's breasts to the outraged woman. “And you, a married man! What would your poor wife and those three adorable children of yours think, if they found out you were here with another woman?” she cried. 

“What? No, I –“began Harry. 

“Say cheese,” urged the husband, snapping the picture. 

“Hey, Mr Potter, I'm gonna be in Gryffindor, just like you, when I get to Hogwarts,” cried the boy. 

Harry smiled politely. “Good for you, lad,” he said, patting him on the shoulder. He looked at the girl. “What about you?” 

“I'm a Ravenclaw, sir,” she said.

“You don't need to call me sir,” Harry told her. “It was nice to meet you all,” he said, hoping they'd get the hint. 

Unfortunately, Ginny chose that moment to wake and stretch. “Harry, what's the time – oh, er, hello,” she said awkwardly. 

“Merlin's beard, it is you – Ginny Weasley!” cried the husband. 

“Potter,” corrected Harry and Ginny together. 

The girl squealed. “I love the Harpy's,” she said. “I wish I had seen you play for them.” 

Ginny smiled politely, suddenly feeling her age. “Thank you.” 

“Well now, this is a lovely surprise,” sighed the mother, looking between the two. “We thought Mr Potter here was doing the nasty behind your back,” she explained to Ginny. “I told him to think of you and the little ones at home, I did,” she nodded emphatically. 

“Yes, Harry, do think of the little ones,” grinned Ginny, and both she and Harry thought about Teddy, James and Albus, already taller than Ginny. Harry rolled his eyes at her and she stuck out her tongue. 

“How about a photo?” asked the man, staring at Ginny's chest. 

“Ooh, yes please,” cried the girl, and practically elbowed Harry out of the way. “Instead of cheese, we could say Harpies!” she suggested to Ginny. 

“I meant me, Annabel,” said the man, still leering. 

“Oy, her eyes are up here,” cried Harry, standing between Ginny and the perve, “ and no more photos.” 

“We had one with you,” the girl said sulkily. 

“Fine, one photo,” said Ginny, turning to bend down to grab Harry's tee shirt and throw it on. Of course, the man took the opportunity to ogle her arse. 

Ginny straightened. “One with the kids,” she ordered, and the girl happily ran to her side. 

The mother took the photo. “Oh, we'll be talking about this for years! Fancy us meeting Harry and Ginny Potter on holiday.” 

“We'd appreciate it if you kept it to yourselves that you saw us,” said Ginny. “We're just after some peace and quiet.” 

“Of course, dear, anything for you both,” nodded the woman, and she gestured for her kids and husband to come with her. “Let's leave these nice people to themselves,” she said. 

Harry stood and watched them leave, waving back when the kids turned around to wave at him. When he turned back to talk to Ginny, he found her packing up their bags and towels, and transfuguring the loungers back. 

“Hey, I thought we might swim some more,” said Harry. 

“I feel dirty after that pervy bloke's eyes were on me,” she complained, shivering. “Besides, we have a perfectly good pool at ours.” 

“Brilliant!” cried Harry. 

“And I'm sure you won't mind me going topless there,” she grinned knowingly. 

“I would never tell you what to do, Gin,” conceded Harry, feeling generous in victory. 

Ginny snorted. “Then if I get all my gear off, you have to, too,” 

“You got yourself a deal,” said Harry, holding out his hand. 

/*/*/*/*

They Portkeyed home late Monday afternoon, arriving at the Burrow for a belated family birthday dinner for Ginny. They arrived down near the pitch, walking hand in hand up to the house, stopping for a snog here and there. The weekend was just what they had needed, and they felt like they were giddy teenagers again. 

“Hi,” they greeted, as they entered the old home. Most of the family were there, although Hermione, George and Angelina would be coming along after work hours. 

Silence tinged with disapproval greeted them. Harry and Ginny looked around. Percy frowned, his eyes darting between both his parents. Bill and Ron didn't meet their eyes, but Fleur and Audrey nodded to them with large smiles. By the sounds of it, most of the kids were upstairs. 

“What's going on?” asked Harry, looking to Ron, while Ginny looked at Bill, Percy and her parents. 

They both turned to see the kids all thundering down the stairs. “Mum, Dad, I can't believe you two,” cried James in disgust. 

“James, I told you to calm down and talk to them first,” argued Teddy. 

“Look, they're together, Uncle Harry is obviously not having an affair,” pointed out Roxeanne. She looked at him. “You're not, right?” 

Harry was taken aback. “Pardon?” 

A newspaper was thrust into his hands, and as he unrolled it and Ginny looked over his shoulder, Lily, Rose and Lucy came down the stairs. 

Lily ran to her parents excitedly. “Mum, Dad is it true? Are you having a baby?” she asked. 

“What?” gasped Harry and Ginny. 

“Just read the bloody papers,” growled Ron. Percy crossed his arms in a disapproving manner. 

'Tits Out in Tropez'. Ginny hitched a breath at the headline and the photo, then checked the date. It was from Saturday's issue of 'The Curious Quill', a gossipy paper that had sprung up the last couple of years and seemed to focus primarily on the Potter-Weasley family. With Romilda Vane as senior editor, it was no surprise. 

“What?” she glared at her brothers, “ it's a topless beach. We did nothing wrong.” 

“Wait. Turn to page three,” suggested Percy, dryly. The photo of Harry behind Ginny, cupping her breasts was just too much, as far as he was concerned.

“Well at least we know it was defininitely Ginny with Harry. According to Sunday's issue, Harry was with someone half his age. Here,” said Ron, shoving another paper under their noses. 

'Perky and Potter at Play', read the headline, and they read the story of an unnamed source who caught Harry on the beach with a woman who they had suspected was half his age, due to the perkiness of her breasts. 

“Great alliteration,” grinned Angelina, who had come down the stairs behind Dominique and Roxeanne. 

“I bet we know who the unnamed source was,” growled Harry, thinking of the family they had met. He read on, his frown deepening the more he read, how his secret lover had tried to keep her identity a secret by shielding her face with a towel, yet had no shame displaying the rest of her body, despite Mr Potter trying to shield her. 

'I told him to think about his good wife and his dear chldren at home', quoted the unnamed source. 

“I do not believe it,” said Harry in disgust. “After we had photos with their kids and everything!” 

“Mum, Dad, never mind that,” said Lily, handing them that days issue. “Is it true, is Mum pregnant?” 

'Potters Celebrate Babymoon' 'Harry and Ginny Potter were spotted over the weekend in St Tropez, and we suspect they have lots to celebrate. Seen spotted on the beach, Ginny, 38, was clearly sporting a suspicious bump and her breasts looked larger than normal'

“38! I'm only 37,” cried Ginny. She looked down at her stomach. “I do NOT have a suspicious bump.” 

She jumped as Albus patted her stomach gently. “Stop that!” She brushed his hand away and glared at the papers. “How can my tits be perky in one story and bigger in the other?” 

“So there's no baby?” asked Lily, looking despondent. “ Grandma was teaching me to knit booties.” Harry emphatically shook his head. 

“Mum!” cried Ginny, as Molly shoved her knitting back down the side of her chair. 

“I do miss having some little ones running around,” explained Molly. Arthur reached over to grab her hand and give it a squeeze. 

“Well, don't look at me and Harry, we are done,” scoffed Ginny. “James, stop pouting and Al, leave my stomach alone.” She brushed his hands away yet again. 

Albus seemed to be fixated on Ginny's stomach. When he became aware they were all looking at him, he blushed and shrugged. Ginny pulled her shirt up, breathing in, to show a not-pregnant stomach. 

“Really, Ginny?” cried Percy, aghast. “ Is it not enough to see your lady bumps on the front page of the paper,” – he ignored the howls of laughter – “or Harry pawing you? You think you'd learn to keep your body undercover.” 

“Lady bumps? Bloody hell, Percy, you can call them breasts, or chests, if you can't say tits!” said Ginny. 

“Ginny!” His tone was frosty and disapproving again. 

“What? Tits, tits, tits, tits, tits,” recited Ginny. 

“Ahem.” Ginny turned to see her dad looking reproachfully at her. James didn't look happy with her either. 

“Sorry, Dad,” she said, reddening. Harry put his arm around her and she leaned against his side. 

“Merlin, Harry, take me back to St Tropez,” she implored quietly. 

“I wish we could,” he said regretfully.

“Maybe you could go back for your fortieth birthday, you know, in two years time,” teased George. 

Ginny slugged him in the arm. “Prat. That's just shoddy journalism, that's what it is.” 

“Ginny, don't hit your brother. Come on now, sit down, we'll dish up dinner soon,” said Molly, organising her daughters-in-law and grandchildren to help.

“No. Sorry Mum, but Harry and I are going down to pay a visit to the Curious Quill's offices and make a formal complaint,” said Ginny, grabbing her husband's hand. 

“We are?” asked Harry. At her pointed look, he nodded to the family. “We are.” 

Ginny pressed a kiss to the top of Lily and Al's foreheads as she passed them. “Kids, we'll be back soon. Go ahead, eat. We'll be back in time for cake.” 

With that, they left the house to walk back to the Apparation spot. Back at the house, as Molly began to serve, the headlines were still the main topic. 

“There goes Perky and Potter,” said George, dramatically. Rose and Roxeanne snickered.

Percy shook his head. “I just hope the ramifications of this meeting won't make the headlines tomorrow. Not that I subscribe to that rag,” he hastened to add.

But sure enough, Harry and Ginny's visit did make their front page the next morning. Angelina particularly, got a grin at the headline.

' Potter's Pack A Punch, Protest Pregnancy Post'. Harry and Ginny Potter, newly returned from St Tropez, paid the CQ's offices a visit yesterday afternoon, demanding to speak with senior editor, Romilda Vane. What went on behind closed doors remains a mystery, as Ms Vane was admitted to St Mungo's spell damage shortly after, suffering the effects of a curse known as the Bat-Bogey hex. 

The Curious Quill would like to acknowledge that Ginny Potter, 37, not 38 as previously reported, was quite adamant in refuting the pregnancy rumours, saying she and her husband of many years were simply enjoying a weekend away to celebrate her birthday. They had hoped for peace and privacy but, of course, being the celebrities that they are, were recognised and happily posed for photos with adoring fans. 

We at the Curious Quill would like to wish Mrs Potter a happy birthday. For the Potter's many fans, we would like to let you know that, due to the rules set out in the restraining order, any photos that we may take of the Potter family in the future will be taken at least at a 100 m distance.

Senior editor Ms Vane, 29, plans to issue a statement when she is released. For now she is resting and recuperating. We send her best wishes. 

“29 my arse,” snapped Ginny, the next morning. The owl had delivered in early while they were still in bed. 

“Again with the alliteration,” sighed Harry, closing the paper and tossing it on the floor. 

“Yeah, well, I might have to reply in kind. 'Romilda Rues Ridiculous Reporting as she Rests and Recuperates', mimicked Ginny.

“I've never seen your Bat Bogey Hex so strong, Gin,” noted Harry. 

Ginny shrugged. “You know what they say about those kind of hexes, you have to really mean it. Trust me, Harry, I really meant it.” 

“So much for a peaceful birthday getaway,” sighed Harry. 

“There'e always next year, Harry,” reasoned Ginny. 

“Next year we'll simply stay at the villa,” insisted Harry. 

Ginny cuddled up to his side. “It wasn't all bad, Harry,” she reminded him. “We had some much needed time alone, great food and wine, and that villa was magnificent.” 

“That bed, that pool,” murmured Harry in agreement. 

“This man,” she teased, hooking a leg over him. “Thanks, Harry.” 

He kissed her forehead. “Happy Birthday, Ginny.” 

~end~


End file.
